Dominick brooded over the question a long time before answering.
“There was another time between the first and last time when he got up. Mr. Templeton was away on a business trip, and Miz Templeton, she let him up.”
“Right. And wasn’t he happy at that time?”
“I couldn’t say.”
A few titters in the courtroom were brought under control by the gavel.
“You did say, did you not, that Mr. Hoover was definitely not happy about not getting to go up?”
“That’s right.”
“Well, when Mrs. Templeton did invite him up, did the defendant appear to be happy?”
“Yes, I guess so.”
“That is all.”
Bill felt Janice flinch at the mention of her name and saw the veiled wink of encouragement Velie flashed her just prior to excusing the witness. They knew the defense was banking heavily on Janice’s testimony regarding the evening she had invited Hoover to the apartment and were prepared to “handle” it. Yet, with all of Scott Velie’s assurances and displays of confidence in their ability to “handle” things, Janice dreaded the moment when she would have to rise and walk to the witness box and answer questions about that night.
The legal ceremony moved slowly and surely onward. Day after day, irrefutable items called facts were chipped from witnesses and presented to the jury to help them render a verdict that would be fair beyond a shadow of a doubt.
Hammering onward, the agile and resolute district attorney summoned Carole Federico to the stand to tell of the two harassing phone calls from Hoover which she had taken during Janice’s absence and of her salty and somewhat abusive reprimand of his behavior, which drew a laugh from all precincts of the courtroom, including the bench.
The two arresting police officers were next to take the stand, followed by the Templetons’ neighbors who had been witness to Elliot Hoover’s assault on Bill in the hallway that evening two months before, and all, so help them God, told their version of the truth, which was filed and registered in the court record and in the jury’s mind along with the rest of the “facts.”
Brice Mack had few objections to offer and even fewer questions to ask of these witnesses, excusing all of them but one without stirring from his seat. Of Officer Noonan he wished confirmation of the fact that Elliot Hoover did open the door, albeit after some slight hesitation, but that he did ultimately open it at the officer’s request.
“It wasn’t a request, sir,” Officer Noonan responded tautly. “It was an order. And he did it only upon threat of our sending for the riot squad.”
“But he did voluntarily open that door, did he not?”
“Yes, sir,” Noonan said wryly. “We persuaded him to open the door.”
Pale and with fear in her eyes, Janice addressed herself to the comings and goings of the court’s business those first four days in a state of suspended animation.
On the Friday before the weekend break, however, an event took place to bring Janice out of her self-imposed dream state.
It occurred just after they had returned from lunch and court was preparing to reconvene. Bill was conferring with Scott Velie at the railing. The morning’s witness had been Dr. Kaplan, and there had been a controversy over the propriety of some of the questions Brice Mack had put to him on cross-examination and would continue to put to him, since Kaplan had not been excused. The defense attorney had sought to know the reason Kaplan had been summoned on the night in question and what the nature of Ivy’s illness was. Velie had objected on the grounds that the questions were improper, that they went beyond the scope of direct examination, and they violated the doctor-patient privilege.
“Dr. Kaplan cannot testify to what treatments he gave the child or even the reason he was summoned to treat her.”
Judge Langley sustained, whereupon Brice Mack asked permission to call Dr. Kaplan as a witness for the defense and further asked the court’s permission to take the witness out of turn since his questions were indeed beyond the scope of direct examination and were pertinent to the defendant’s case. After a moment’s consideration, and some hesitation, Langley instructed Dr. Kaplan to remain available but said he would consider the defense’s request to call Dr. Kaplan “out of turn” during the lunch recess.
Now they were back, and Bill and Scott Velie were plotting strategy to thwart the defense attorney’s attempts to gain information from Kaplan regarding Ivy’s nightmares should the judge grant Brice Mack’s request.
A few minutes after Janice had taken her seat and was idly watching the artist putting the finishing touches on a full-figure sketch of Scott Velie rising to his feet to object, a newspaperman ambled down the press row and, his body shielding his actions from Bill’s view, thrust a slip of paper into her hand. Before she could react or look up, he had turned and was walking rapidly back to his seat in the middle of the press row behind the defense table.
It took Janice some minutes to work up the courage to examine the slip of paper, and when she did, she did so covertly, stealthily. The paper had been torn from a yellow legal pad and was folded. She sensed it was from Hoover and was right; yet, opening it, she was surprised to see, instead of the expected mincing script, two lines of bold black letters, hand-printed at an arresting angle and with exclamation marks emphasizing the urgency of the message, “I AM AFRAID FOR THE CHILD!! IS SHE ALL RIGHT?? PLEASE, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!! E. H.”
Terse, pointed, terrifying, like a telegram from the Defense Department. Janice felt a shudder ripple over her, a trembling of the flesh as she crumpled the slip of paper into a nervous ball and allowed it to drop from her hand to the floor.
Slyly, surreptitiously, and with pounding heart, Janice dared a glance in Hoover’s direction and saw his eyes boring across the courtroom at her. Once engaged, she was riveted by the compelling, beseeching, anguished intensity of his demand for an answer to his question.
At this moment Judge Langley decided to enter the courtroom, forcing all to rise. Their eyes continued to hold fast throughout half of the bailiff’s litany, at which point Janice, fearing the imminence of Bill’s return to his seat, allowed her face to soften into the semblance of a smile and, with a barely perceptible nod of her head, affirmed Ivy’s well-being. Hoover sighed and immediately relaxed. Fear and concern drained from his face and were replaced by a look of gratitude and a smile of such ineffable sweetness that Janice was forced to look away lest she betray an emotion she would later regret.
The drone of Judge Langley’s voice ruling on Brice Mack’s request formed an unintelligible hum in the background of Janice’s thoughts, still focused on the contents of Elliot Hoover’s message. Some dire premonition must have prompted his sudden concern, of this she was sure. Too much had happened in their lives for her to start doubting him now. If some intuitive apprehension for Ivy’s safety had telepathed itself to him, then she must honor and act upon it. Her first thought was that the dreams had come back, that Audrey Rose had once again succeeded in blasting through Ivy’s subconscious and was crying out to her father sitting in a jail cell some fifty miles away. And that he had received the message. But if that were so, the school would certainly have got in touch with them. In any case, she must call Mount Carmel and speak to Ivy. Now!
Rising and leaving the courtroom during the judge’s solemn oration would certainly draw attention to her, might even incur the judge’s displeasure, but there was no help for it. She had to get to a phone. Shifting around in her seat, she hurriedly whispered to Bill that she wasn’t feeling well and edged her way across to the side aisle. Judge Langley’s voice hesitated in midsentence as a soft hum of whispers, like a distant drone of locusts, accompanied her progress to the door. A gentle rap of his gavel rebuked all and sundry for the unseemly interruption.